Indebted
by My Misguided Fairytale
Summary: When a mysterious stranger pays for his sister’s surgery, Joey is determined to repay his debts. // AU, Regency Era England, Dragonshipping, Silentshipping


Title: Indebted

Summary: When a mysterious stranger pays for his sister's surgery, Joey is determined to repay his debts. // Dragonshipping, Silentshipping

A/N: Dragonshipping was a real challenge for me. This piece is an AU set in regency England (≈1820) so any historical inaccuracies are mine. All place names are real, but used entirely out of any geographical context. Inspired by an 'alternate reincarnation' idea (ex: Duelists of the Roses, although that was WAY earlier, like late 15th century…but now I'm rambling). I'm using the English names because it makes more sense, considering the AU. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_**Indebted**_

It was raining, again, a thick curtain of water that seemed to drench anyone caught in it in a matter of seconds. Joseph Wheeler descended the stairs of the Midland Bank on Lower Weston, stuffing his hands inside his overcoat pockets to keep out the cold. The charcoal-colored sky made it seem later than the four o'clock he knew it to be as the bells from a church clock tower reached his ears and his eyes lingered on the sea of pedestrians and ladies with their ubiquitous black umbrellas neatly forming a canopy over the streets of London.

Joseph had no umbrella, but he took a moment to tug his cylinder hat further past his ears, hoping the large brim would keep the worst of the rain off of his face. He couldn't get sick in this weather, not with Serenity as she was…

He paused, grimaced, and surged forward into the crowd to distract himself from that line of thought. He would see his sister again soon, and she could always tell when something was wrong just by the sound of his voice or the rate of his steps. She didn't even need to see him anymore with her eyes, but that didn't mean that he didn't wish with all of his being that there was another way…_any _other way to fix her condition.

The cold rain had soaked through his shoulders by the time he made it to Hawkins Street, and his stiff fingers had difficulty getting the key into the lock of his small second-floor flat overlooking Bedford Square.

"Brother?" Serenity's voice called out. "Joey?"

He hung his coat and hat up guiltily; he had not intended to slam the door like he had, he'd probably disturbed her…whatever it was that she did to amuse herself. Sewing? Probably, Joey thought. He had enough scarves she'd knitted him to last the rest of his life.

He found her in the drawing-room, seated on a worn cream-colored sofa, surrounded by blankets with a half-full teacup by her elbow on an end table. Joey frowned; she was a lot paler than he remembered when he'd left her that morning.

"Joey, what's wrong?" Serenity asked. "Are you alright?"

"I should be asking you that," he responded as gently as he could manage, moving across the room to shut the window she'd probably opened sometime before it started raining. The curtains were damp and the room was much colder than it should be—didn't she know that she had to watch her health?

"Do not worry about me," Serenity said, smiling as she reached for her teacup. "I will be fine, I'm sure of it. We will find a way…" she took a sip.

Joey was by her side in an instant. "How are your eyes?"

She looked up, and Joey's heart broke when she focused on a spot near his chin, her gaze so determined even though they both knew what her answer would be. "It's very dark," she admitted, drawing the blankets closer around herself. "I sometimes wonder what time of day it is, whether I've left a candle on or not…" she paused. "Did you get the money?"

His heart broke a second time. "No. They wouldn't offer me a loan for such a _speculative surgery_," Joey fought to keep his voice from sounding too harsh as he remembered the bank examiner's words. "The Moorfields Eye Hospital is still new, but their physicians are supposed to be the best. I'll find a way, Serenity. You will see again."

"I want you to be the first thing I see," Serenity said. "And then I want to see the opera!"

Joey allowed a thin smile to cross his lips. "Of course, I'll take you the very next day."

"You shouldn't keep yourself confined in the house on my account," Serenity insisted. "_You _should go to the opera tonight! Look, I finished you a new scarf today!" She fumbled through the blankets for the scarf, which like all her recent creations, was a jumble of mismatched colors.

Joey took the scarf from her, and slowly put it on. "For you, Serenity."

* * *

Joey did not go to the opera that night, although he walked by the front steps of the Opera House in Covent Garden, saw that they were playing _La Gazza Ladra_, and continued walking. He could always make up some story to Serenity, although he had a feeling she'd know he was lying. It felt almost below him to spend money frivolously when his sister was in such a serious condition, no matter how she kept exclaiming to him that he shouldn't let her situation disturb his own social schedule. He frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets once more.

Not that he'd gone out in weeks, after all. In London, if one didn't pervade a constant presence at society functions, operas, or balls the nobility would presume one as good as dead. Joey and his sister weren't destitute by any means; they had been left a small sum of 100 pounds a year by their father following his death. Joey couldn't borrow enough to put together a physician's fee to evaluate Serenity's eyes, not that she would ever have the chance at finding a decent husband while she was dependant like this. Joey was adamant against the idea, not even the King himself was worthy of his sister, and it just wasn't _fair _that the two of them would most likely spend the rest of their lives alone…

Joey paused when he realized he'd walked as far as Piccadilly, turned left, and kept walking. He didn't know where he was headed, but it felt as though he had magnets in his feet, pulling him along to some unknown destination, like he couldn't stop if he wanted to. He was enjoying the walk and enjoying the weather until he felt the first raindrop hit his nose.

Several buckets of raindrops followed immediately afterwards, and Joey raced from awning to awning to find somewhere dry to wait out the storm, instantly regretting his choice of not wearing a hat that evening. The rain was already leaking through the ripped cloth awning above him, and raindrops dripped from his nose and hair as he drew his coat closer around himself, saw an open gate further down the street, and ducked inside.

The courtyard he found himself in was immense, and it took Joey a few seconds of looking around to find the closest cover, and he headed for the colonnade on the opposite side of the courtyard to get out of the rain. Once under the momentary sanctuary he wiped his face clean, tried his best to squeeze the water out of his hair, and cursed his luck when the rain picked up and started blowing sideways.

Joey stumbled backwards, nearly knocking into an open door and froze when he heard the voices inside.

"Gentlemen, it looks like we have a visitor."

The voice in particular seemed to be mocking him, and Joey turned, prepared to defend his uninvited appearance at what he slowly realized was the Burlington House as he caught sight of the immaculately appointed ballroom and its occupants, a dozen men in formal cloaks and silk top hats. The building was home to a growing underground cabal of the most influential and scholarly—arrogant, Joey would have called them—men in London.

Having no alternative, Joey straightened his shoulders and walked into the room, pretending that he didn't look as bad as the gentlemen's expressions made it seem. Upon entering the room one of the first things he noticed were the large amount of mirrors lining the oak-paneled walls, telling him in no uncertain terms _exactly_ how out-of-place he looked in comparison to the aristocratic meeting he had just interrupted.

"And you are?"

The same man who had indirectly addressed him earlier spoke. He had dark brown hair, worn loose, with slight bangs around his face. His eyes looked…Joey searched for a proper description. Cruel. His eyes looked cruel. Joey scanned the room. Several of the men were conversing in a corner, but the few that Joey could see were looking at him with clear attention.

"Joseph Wheeler," Joey responded, offering a slight nod of his head in greeting, although no one returned the gesture.

"Do you have an interest in astronomy, Mr. Wheeler?" another man with longer brown hair asked politely. Joey saw the flash of cruelty in the other man's eyes deepen as he addressed his colleague.

"That will be enough, Mr. Taylor," he addressed, his deep voice unquestionably final, like the last nail to seal the lid of a coffin. Joey swallowed.

"Right, Mr. Kaiba," Taylor answered.

"Gentlemen, our meeting is adjourned for the evening." Joey was very aware that he was not included in the designation by the speaker's body language.

As the small crowd began to disperse, Joey saw one person he hadn't noticed before. He was hard to miss, with his incredibly distinctive hair, an unusual color—Joey noted that it was _multiple_ colors, yet on him it seemed natural, not out of place with his formal jacket and loose scarf. Joey hastily looked away as he realized that the stranger had been watching him, only to be confronted by the one named Kaiba.

"I suggest that you leave," he said harshly. "Now that you have disrupted our meeting you can have nothing further to damage."

"So, what exactly is this place?" Joey asked. Standing on the wooden floor in his muddy boots, Joey realized just how nice it was. The tables by each entry held large vases with fresh flowers, and the golden chandeliers gleamed dully in the dim light, the candle flames flickering in the wind blowing in from the still-open door.

"The Royal Astronomical Society," Kaiba said. "You are trespassing on private property—"

"I just wanted to get out of the rain," Joey responded defensively, raising his voice on instinct. He didn't care if this Kaiba was a member of Parliament—which was a real possibility, Joey realized—he wouldn't put up with anyone insulting him or his station.

"I do not like to repeat myself," Kaiba hissed.

"Then save yourself the breath," Joey responded. His eyes darted to the stranger in the back of the room, noticing again that while he was talking to someone else, he was still looking right at Joey.

"And who's that?"

Seto Kaiba's face tightened into a grimace. "That is our benefactor."

"So, he funds this place, right? Your society?"

"Yes." Kaiba's tone was clipped, even. From the way he refused to spend more than a second or two on his responses, it was clear that he would have rather conversed with a pile of unwashed dishes than with the still-soaking wet Joey.

Joey's eyes traveled back to the stranger. Money…that was one thing he was in desperate need of, but he doubted the Royal Astronomical Society could be interested in anything Joey could offer.

The rain outside hardly looked inviting, but when compared to the company indoors Joey knew his lukewarm welcome was already wearing thin.

"Don't worry about me. I'll leave, like you want," Joey said. He made to turn around, but Kaiba's smirk made Joey think he wouldn't be leaving with the last word.

"Wheeler," Kaiba said. "Nice scarf."

Joey's eyes narrowed, and in his barely contained rage he saw red. "My _little sister_ made it for me. She's blind, not that you would care. I'm sure this scarf's nicer than anything you can buy in a store."

Kaiba looked slightly taken aback, but Joey turned around and walked as quickly as he could towards the door and back into the rain, not even caring that it was ice-cold and stung his face like hundreds of tiny little knives. He simply pulled the collar of his coat higher around his chin, carefully tucking in his multicolored scarf to protect it from the rain.

* * *

Joey had resumed working as a clerk at a trade shop the next week, which supplied incoming and departing freight ships with any provisions or equipment they needed. It was taxing work, and once Joey thought he saw someone he recognized from that unfortunate meeting with the Society the previous Thursday. He retreated to the stock room for the rest of the day, shelving products and attempting to work on their lengthy budget—and giving up, after several attempts—but for the most part his routine resumed without incident.

He left promptly at four, collecting his paycheck and purchasing a small trinket for Serenity—a small silver thimble; he spoiled her every chance he got, but he made sure to save enough of his pay to set aside for the physician's appointment—and headed home.

He opened the door to his flat, made sure not to slam it, and noticed instantly that something didn't seem right. He wasn't sure what it was. The windows were open, like usual, and the air, while fresh, was still chilly. Then it struck him.

It was too quiet.

"Serenity?" He called out, spotting her half-finished sewing on the couch. He frowned, moving it to the table. She'd lost knitting needles in the couch before, and those weren't inexpensive to replace.

"Serenity?" He tried again. Perhaps she was simply resting. He knocked lightly on her bedroom door before turning the handle. The curtains surrounding her four-poster were open; no Serenity.

A growing feeling of unease began to settle deep in his stomach.

He ran back into the living room before finally spotting a piece of crisp white stationary on their dining table. It was folded into thirds, and he took it with trembling fingers, opening it and reading the cursive script as quickly as he could.

_Mr. Joseph Wheeler,_

_Firstly, I apologize_ _for the manner in which you were treated this past Thursday by my contemporaries at the Royal Astronomical Society. I hope in this small way I can make this up to you. Secondly, I apologize for the manner with which I have momentarily separated you from your sister, but I must press upon you the fact that she was quite willing to participate in the only opening that the esteemed Dr. Solomon of the Moorfields Eye Hospital has in his schedule for the next several months. You may find it, and her, on City Road in room 35. Her diagnosis is promising and Dr. Solomon has assured myself, and your congenial sister, that a treatment is possible and her recovery will be swift. _

_Sincerely,_

_Your most contrite friend_

Joey immediately dropped the letter and almost stepped on it in his haste to get out of the front door before realizing he'd forgotten which room Serenity was in, ran back, scooped up the letter and stuffed it into his pocket as he slammed the door behind him.

He was overjoyed at his sudden good fortune. _Serenity would be cured!_

_

* * *

_He was let into the Hospital with a disapproving glance from the woman behind the desk at his wind-blown hair and crazily euphoric expression. Room 35 was a private corner room on the second floor, and as he neared the door he could hear two voices inside. He normally would have simply attributed it to her nurse, but his hand stopped inches from the doorknob as he realized that he _knew_ that voice.

His first instinct was to rip the door from its hinges and show Mr. Kaiba the quick way out through the second-story window, but he paused, pressing his head closer to the door to hear just what they were discussing. He doubted it was _Kaiba_ who paid for Serenity's treatment, so just what was he doing here? The curiosity was driving him mad, but he needed more solid evidence if he was going to go in front of court for accosting a member of the nobility…Joey's mind was already racing with possible scenarios for the unexpected visit, but he paused again when he realized that the voices had ceased talking.

Suddenly, his sister's voice called out: "Joey, I know it's you. Please come in."

Red-faced, Joey immediately sprang away from the door, remembering his sister's uncanny ability to know when he was nearby. She probably heard him the moment he left the stairwell.

He opened the door, making sure to act as though he was in the process of walking up to the room and not listening at the keyhole like some kind of felon.

"Serenity." He couldn't help the relieved expression on his face at seeing her sitting up in bed, hair neatly brushed and arranged, and a huge smile on her face. His own expression faltered—she was smiling, but one glance at the stone-faced Kaiba made him unsure just where it had come from. And _why_ again was he even here?

He chose to ignore him completely. "Sister, are you alright? You've…been treated well?"

"Of course she has, Wh—Joseph," Kaiba stated evenly. "She's at the best hospital for her condition in the country. At the moment she belongs nowhere else. I'm surprised you haven't realized that already."

Joey scowled. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Serenity's face turned towards his, and it was easy for Joey to pretend that her eyes were focused clearly on his. "I insisted to Mr. Kaiba that you be brought to me immediately"—Joey also chose to ignore the sudden brush of red that dusted her cheeks, attributing that to the cold temperature of the room from the opened window—"and he said that it had already been taken care of, and that you were sure to arrive soon. He's been keeping me company all this time, so I wouldn't be alone."

"How…thoughtful of him." For Serenity, he could be civil. At least, he could try.

"Mr. Kaiba, I'm sure you have much more important things you could be doing," Joey prompted.

"No, I don't," he shrugged. Joey scowled.

"I can tell"—it seemed to Joey that _both_ of them were restricting their tempers for Serenity's sake—"that I am _interrupting_ a family moment." He smirked at Joey, whose scowl only deepened. He did that on purpose, Serenity couldn't _see_ him do it…

He was distracted as Serenity took one of his hands in hers, brushing her fingers across his knuckles consolingly. "I'm sorry for worrying you, brother," she said. "I still want you to be the first person I see, remember?"

"Yes," Joey echoed. The door clicked shut behind Kaiba as he left. Joey immediately slouched and sat down on the edge of Serenity's bed. "That Kaiba. What do you _see_ in him, anyway?"

"Nothing," Serenity said lightly, a smile brightening her face.

"That's not funny," Joey complained.

"But he was so kind to me," she argued. "He brought me something…look, over there, on the table."

A blue paper box rested on the edge of the table just out of Serenity's reach, and Joey picked it up, opening it and pulling apart the tissue paper.

"Careful, Joey," Serenity said, reaching out to take the box from him. He let her, but unconsciously straightened up when he saw her pull out a midnight-blue scarf from the box.

"Isn't it beautiful? I can tell by the material, it is very fine quality," she said. "What color is it, Joey?"

He supposed a frown was now beginning to etch itself permanently into his face. "Blue," he muttered.

Serenity's smile widened. "I love it! I'll write him a letter, I need to thank him properly! Will you get me some stationary? I believe I kept some in our writing-desk…it'll only take a moment, Joey, please?"

He rose to his feet, finding them shuffling towards the door. "For you, Serenity," he answered.

* * *

The sky was rapidly growing dark when Joey approached the building where his flat was located. The streets were nearly empty, which was strange in itself, but Joey was having the most peculiar suspicions…it felt like he was being watched. _Again_.

He spun around, noting with some minor satisfaction and a strange sense of confusion that the same stranger with the unnaturally-colored hair was leaning against a lamp-post and looking sincerely out-of-place with the clean brick and slightly overgrown hedges of the street. The stranger's obviously expensive coat was of a strange cut, possibly a foreign style, but Joey found himself drawn to the stranger from a type of curiosity he'd never felt before.

"It was you." Joey knew in an instant who'd written that letter.

"You paid for my sister's treatment."

As soon as he'd said it he knew without a doubt it was true, and the second realization hit him so strongly that his stomach felt weak. He couldn't accept this; a complete _stranger_ had paid for what Joey knew was an extremely expensive procedure without asking for anything in return, but Joey didn't like being indebted to anyone, even if it meant that Serenity could see again, that she could _live_ again.

"What you did was…extremely generous," Joey couldn't believe he was even saying the words until they were already out of his mouth and had disappeared into the silence, "but I can't accept it. It's too much. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I can think of something," the stranger said, and Joey grew apprehensive.

"You…want me to join your Society?" It was the first thing that came to mind, and the stranger's sudden laugh made Joey embarrassed.

"No…no, not at all."

Joey's suspicion returned, especially when he noticed that the stranger had all of a sudden gotten much closer to him.

"What I want," the stranger paused, "is for you to hold still."

Joey did, first with reluctance and then with shock as the stranger leaned forward and captured his lips with his own in a brief, chaste kiss. Before Joey could even register what had just happened it was over, and the stranger had given him one hard, serious glance before turning away.

"W-w—" Joey was still processing what had just happened. _He _was _leaving? _Just like that? Joey hesitated before calling out to the stranger.

"How can I repay my debt?"

"What debt?" He asked, turning his head just slightly so his amused smirk was visible in the thin light of the flickering lamppost.

Jounouchi stood, words frozen on the tip of his tongue, grateful for the shadows that hid his blush as the stranger walked away.

* * *

A/N: Although I never mention him by name (that was intentional) the "stranger" is Yami.

The Moorfields Eye Hospital was founded in 1805. The Royal Astronomical Society was founded in 1820. I used both entirely out of context, just for the historical tie-ins.

Although I have visited London, all geographical inaccuracies are mine. I consulted real street names, but not maps, so I haven't the slightest idea where all of the places mentioned are in conjunction with one another. But hey, that's fiction for you.

I would appreciate and value your reviews. Thank you for reading!

~Jess


End file.
